


You're Gonna Be the Death of Me

by damnfancyscotch



Series: Whimsy & Confusion [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Are Siblings, Alternate Universe - High School, Based on a Tumblr Post, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Liking Your Best Friend's Little Brother, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Older Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnfancyscotch/pseuds/damnfancyscotch
Summary: Stiles Stilinski and Laura Hale are best friends. Like, the best of Best Friends, capital letters and all.She's the peanut butter to his jelly, the cheese to his macaroni. No matter what, it's always beenLauraandStiles.That's why it's so fuckingclichéthat Stiles is crushing on Laura's younger brother.But seriously, when did dorky little Der Bear get so goddamn hot?-----Having a crush on his older sister’s best friend is totally normal. It’s damn near a rite of passage.Plus Stiles is... well,Stiles.He's unlike anyone else that Derek's ever met and now he's only got one year to tell Stiles how he feels, how he's maybe felt for a long time, and he needs to do it quick.Derek’s got a plan. Hopefully it's a good one.





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wtf am I doing? I have so many stories that I need to write/finish right now... why can't I control myself?!
> 
> Ugh, I'm awful.
> 
> Based on [this post](http://werelinski.tumblr.com/post/63320287960/sterek-highschool-au-his-stiles-best-friends).

Stiles Stilinski knows a few things to be completely and utterly true:

1 – Curly fries are the only fries that actually matter. Shoe string fries are a close second, but not an acceptable substitute unless no curly fries are available, anywhere, _at_ _all_.

2 – Hoodies are the most comfortable sort of jacket. No other explanation needed.

3 – Family means everything. His father and his little sister Allison matter more to him than anyone in the world. His misses his mom _every_ _day_ but he’s finally at an age where the missing feels good, a happy/clean sort of ache, if that makes sense.

4 – Following his family on the importance meter is Laura Hale. Laura is Stiles’ best friend, the peanut butter to his jelly, the cheese to his macaroni, etc. Stiles thinks that soul mates aren’t romantic connections, per say, though he’s more than half in love with Laura – but if soul mates are a thing, Laura is Stiles’ and vice versa. Ever since he can remember, Laura has been there, next to him. There’s pictures of them, both in diapers and nothing else, sleeping, eating, taking baths – those are Laura’s favorite, mostly because they both seem so enamored with each other’s bubble beards, and she’s got one framed that sits on her desk in her bedroom – coloring, rolling in the mud, crying hysterically. It’s always been _LauraandStiles_.

5 – Werewolves exist and they are _obnoxious_ , nosy, overprotective, gossipy busy-bodies, the lot of them – but, he _can_ admit, albeit a bit begrudgingly, that _most_ of the Hale Pack means well.

(He’s obviously not including Peter, because, well, it’s _Peter_ – he’s the biggest gossip and shit-stirrer in the pack.)

\-----

_July_

Stiles leans over, mumbling to Allison from the side of his mouth, “ _What_ do you see in that kid?” He gives the back of Scott McCall’s floppy-haired head a heavy glare, intent on going full-on Scary Older brother until Allison jabs him in the ribs. He jerks back, frowning at her.

She glares, brown eyes so like his, their mom’s, and bares her teeth, looking like Talia, stating firmly, “He’s _sweet_.” She pulls the visor of the Jeep down, peering at her reflection in the tiny stuck-on mirror. Satisfied, she slaps the visor back up and points at him. “ _Don’t_ mess with him.”

Stiles settles back in his seat, grumbling, “If he doesn’t give me a reason to, I won’t.” She swats his arm and he catches her fingers, squeezing them for a moment. “Look, Ally, I know you can take care of yourself, that’s not what this is about. I’m not trying to run your life, I swear.”

Her frustrated expression slips a little. “Then why are you being an ass?”

He grins at her, biting her fingers until she yanks them back, flicking him on the nose. “It’s just weird. You dating, I mean. You’re growing up and it’s strange for me.”

She sighs, anger gone in the face of his honesty. “Dammit, Stiles, quit being all ‘sweet big brother’ alright? I’m trying to be irritated with you!”

He smiles and taps his hands on the steering wheel, scrunching his nose to settle his glasses that Allison says make him look like an _oddly daunting hipster assface_. He can work with that.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. You know I’d do aything for you, sister mine.” He leans over her again and wrenches the window the rest of the way down. “Yo, McCall!”

Scott turns from the small group he’s talking to, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Allison but dimming a little as he sees Stiles’ expression. “Hey,” he calls out hesitantly.

The others turn to look too – Scott’s shy, adopted brother Isaac Lahey, vicious and whip-smart Lydia Martin, her smirky boyfriend and all around douche-nozzle Jackson Whitemore, and very sweet Danny Mahaleni, Jackson’s best friend – which Stiles can never wrap his head around because Danny is so fucking _nice_ and Jackson is so _Jackson_.

Stiles smiles and drawls, “I’ll be back to pick Allison up at nine-thirty, _sharp_. There better be no funny business. I _know_ why fifteen year olds go see movies, Scotty boy.”

Allison full-on rabbit-punches him in the ribs this time. It hurts, but he doesn’t let it show on his face as he opens her door, motioning her out with a sugar-sweet smile. “There ya go, Princess.”

“I am going to _murder_ you,” she hisses through a smile, her eyes flashing.

He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to you trying, _Ally Cat_.” He uses her childhood nickname with no shame, watching as her eyes flare even brighter. She slams the door of the Jeep harder than necessary, which is pretty forceful.

He waves to the group and calls out, “Bye kiddies! Make good choices!” He cackles as he puts the Jeep into gear and peels away from the curb.

He is in _so_ _much_ trouble but god that was fun!

He turns toward the road leading to the Hale House, enjoying the way the hard-packed dirt road makes his Jeep sway, humming along to the radio, tapping out the beat on the door. His last summer before graduation is almost over.

He’s not sure if he’s more happy or melancholy.

On one hand, Senior Year means it’s the last year he has to eat the horrendous cafeteria food or look at that scut Harris’ smug fucking face. But he is gonna miss Beacon Hills, if only for its simplicity, the relative calm, despite his involvement with the local werewolf pack.

He sees shapes sprinting past him in the trees, hears the bubbling, joyous calls and has to smile. He bays his own little call in greeting, a pale imitation of a full on howl, but it makes the werewolves in the woods howl back gleefully.

He pulls into the driveway and parks next to Laura’s absolutely _sick_ Camaro. As always, he eyes the car appreciatively as he heads across the yard and toward the door.

Being half-raised by a pack of werewolves, Stiles is used to being getting hurt. It comes of growing up with kids who look like they’re your physical match but could snap your arm with less than a thought. It doesn’t mean he’s used to being in pain or that he likes it.

That’s precisely why, when a basketball flies over the house and hits Stiles right in the face, he’s able to sit on the ground and be resigned to his injury and utterly furious simultaneously.

He also knows _exactly_ whose fucking basketball it is because, despite the fact that the whole Pack shares common items, certain things are singular to certain members and honestly, it’s not even _close_ to the first time he’s been hit by this _particular_ basketball.

“Goddammit,” he hisses, fingertips tentatively pressing to the fever-hot skin of his left cheekbone. He retrieves his glasses from the ground, inspecting them to check for damage. They’re fine but oohhh man he is _pissed_.

He looks around, finding the offensive ball and again having a desire for the claws that the werewolves have so he can pop the fucking thing, to feel the satisfaction of _destroying_ _it once and for all_. He settles for snatching it up, fully intending on bitching out its owner as he heads toward the front door.

Just as he reaches the stairs, he hears, “Hey!”

Stiles turns, watching Derek jog over from the corner of the house wearing _his_ green flannel shirt that the little shit stole last year after the Seventh Annual Stilinski-Hale Watergun Battle.

“Can I have my basketball back? _Please_?”

Under his sweat-messy black hair, Derek’s face is schooled into an innocent expression that Stiles doesn’t buy for a fucking second. It’s in the flashing grey-green-blue eyes and those damn tricky Hale eyebrows where mischief lurks.

Stiles thinks his eye twitches and his cheek burns all over again. He holds up the ball in question and Derek nods. With a savage grin, he hurls it at Derek forcefully, causing the younger boy to let out an “oof” as it collides with his chest.

“The next time you hit me with that ball,” Stiles growls, showing his teeth like any werewolf would, “I’m shoving it up your ass! 

Derek quickly recovers, his expression going sly. His posture shifts and he gestures to the mark on Stiles’ cheekbone, his mouth a smirking curve. “If I kiss it better, will you stop whining?”

_Well, well, well, when the hell did little Der-Bear get so suave?_

Stiles rolls his eyes then jerks as Derek steps closer, _way_ _closer_ , basketball tucked under one arm, body a line of heat against the front of Stiles’, free hand trailing the back of his fingers along Stiles’ unmarked cheekbone.

Since when is Derek so tall?

“Or would you prefer it if we talked about my ass some more?” His voice is low, husky, filled with something dark. Stiles’ stomach swoops as Derek tilts his head, his bright eyes focused on Stiles’ mouth – _wait, what?_

Stiles stumbles back and makes a sound that he hopes is a dismissive laugh, waving his hand. “Very funny, Der, you’re a fucking riot.” He shakes his head and starts up the stairs. Just before he goes inside, he risks a glance back.

Derek is standing in the same place, eyebrows quirked and expression just this side of mocking. _Oh, so the little pest thinks this is a game_.

Stiles scoffs and goes fully inside, shutting the door behind him and blocking out the sight of suddenly-sultry little Derek Hale… who, apparently, isn’t all that little any more. They’re the same fucking height now.

When the hell did that happen?

“Ugh, you smell like a brothel,” Laura states as she rounds the corner. “What happened?”

Stiles huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes at his best friend. “I was around so many hormonal teenagers in the past half hour, there’s really no way to tell.”

Laura clasps her hands under her chin and sighs, blinking her eyes prettily. “Young love is such a splendid thing, dontcha think?”

He snorts, tousling her hair and saying over her angry squawk, “I know you really mean horny idiots and I agree.”

“I’m so glad you don’t exude arousal like everyone else our age does,” she says as she wraps her arms around Stiles and clings like a limpet.

It would be different if he had someone to feel sexy _about_ , but whatever.

“You know me, I’m always trying to make you more comfortable,” Stiles says as he shuffles toward the den the best he can with Laura wrapped around him. “I live to love and please you.”

“Alas, if only you were a girl!” she cries dramatically.

Stiles lets them fall onto the giant beanbag chair and says, “And if you were a boy, you’d be all I ever wanted.”

Laura blows a lock of hair out of her face and grins at him. “If we’re both single when we’re forty, we should get married.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and tweaks her nose. “I’m never going to marry you. You’d eat me alive and I’m not suitable to run a pack.”

She frowns at him and nips his shoulder. “I think you’d be great at running the pack.”

He pats her arm. “I appreciate your vote of confidence but I’m still gonna pass.”

“Pssh, we’ll see if your answer is the same when we’re forty and I’m as devastatingly beautiful as my mother.” She reaches over and grabs the remote, turning on cartoons before settling back in her previous position, head nestled on his shoulder. “What did Derek do anyway?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “His basketball has a homing beacon on me, I swear to god.”

She runs her nose over the cheekbone that Derek touched and rubs her own cheek against it gently, scent marking him as hers, erasing her brother’s scent.

He chuckles at her, rubbing his hands over her arms before linking their fingers together. “You’re so possessive.”

“M’not,” she grumbles, face mashed to his shoulder.

“Sure you’re not.” He squeezes her fingers, before focusing on the episode of Adventure Time playing.

They watch another episode and some Steven Universe before Derek pops his head into the room and says, “Laur, Mom wants you.”

Laura sighs but moves to rise, obeying her mom and her Alpha. She nuzzles Stiles’ cheek one more time before she gets up and Stiles rolls his eyes at her, kicking her in the ass as she walks away. She shoots him a faux-serious glare and rubs her ass cheek like Stiles’ kick actually hurt as she ambles out of the room.

Stiles turns back to the television and keeps watching, putting his hands behind his head. He catches sight of Derek from the corner of his eye and the black-haired teen is watching him, a strange look on his face.

“ _What_?” Stiles finally asks without taking his eyes from the television.

“Nothing.” Derek’s voice is careful now, not flirty like before and Stiles thinks maybe whatever was going on before is over now. Good.

“Okay.” Stiles turns his whole attention back to the show and almost forgets Derek is there until he speaks.

"She does that a lot.” Derek sounds closer than the doorway.

“Who does what?”

Derek scoffs and Stiles looks over in time to see him roll his eyes, another Hale trait, as he leans against the arm of the couch. “Laura. She scent marks you a lot.”

Stiles nods, unsure as to what Derek’s getting at, and still a little pissed off at him. “Uh yeah. She’s done that since we were babies, dude. She’s protective or possessive or whatever.”

Derek frowns, looking slightly sullen. “Yeah, whatever.” He leaves, heading left down the hallway and toward the backyard.

Stiles rolls his eyes, he’s pretty good at it too, and turns back to the show. He’s pretty sure he understands what’s going on now.

There’s nothing worse than puberty, except for werewolves going through their version of puberty. He’d had to get a whole new wardrobe three years ago when Laura shredded everything in his closet because she got angry about something he’d agreed to do then forgot because of an exam.

Granted, Laura had paid for all of it and gone shopping with him, apologizing over and over again, so it wasn’t that terrible, considering. It could have been worse.

Laura and Derek’s cousin Max had almost drowned himself when he threw a gift from his then girlfriend in the lake in a rage then freaked out about getting it back, crying as he dove over and over again to try and find it.

Max’s twin sister Penelope almost jumped over the counter at the sandwich shop to lick the man who smelled “so good” that she wanted “only one taste, I promise”.

Stiles shook his head, honestly feeling a little bad for Derek. It probably wasn’t going to be easy for him but Stiles hoped it was as painless as possible, poor guy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. Not sure when I'll update, based on the fact that I've got two other stories going right now and a ton of work/a trip overseas coming up, but it's whatever, I guess.
> 
> Tell me what you think.
> 
> Love ya, babs!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that - an update?!
> 
> Do y'all even know how lucky you are right now? 
> 
> ;)

Derek Hale knows a few things to be completely and utterly true:

1 – Fries of any kind are nothing in comparison to tater tots. Tots are supreme, end of story.

2 – Leather jackets are way cooler than hoodies, but a good flannel can settle the argument. He’s accumulated a few, but the ones he’s stolen from friends are his favorite, especially the green and gray one.

3 – Family = Pack = Life. He loves his family with every fiber of his being and, since he’s a werewolf, it makes sense that he’s extra close to them. He even genuinely likes his siblings, even if they are annoying sometimes. His uncle Peter is his favorite relative though.

4 – He is ridiculously, hopelessly, stupidly in love with Stiles Stilinski (who just so happens to be his sister’s best friend) and he’s felt that way since he was old enough to know what that too-tight feeling behind his breastbone meant.

5 – He’s an idiot.

\-----

“Erica, I don’t think this is gonna work.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “It’ll work,” she assures him, her voice a little scratchy through his laptop speakers. “You’ve gotten even cuter over the break. He’ll notice.”

Derek sighs, dropping the stolen flannel on his bed. “He never notices.”

“He _will_ because you’re going to make him.”

“How?” he asks, ruffling his hair in frustration. “I’ve tried almost everything I can think of.”

“Well, to be fair,” Boyd chips in from his chat window, “assuming that he knows how you feel without telling him probably isn’t going to work.”

He groans, flopping back onto his bed. “I’m hopeless,” he declares.

“Yeah,” Erica agrees and grins when he leans up to glare at her.

“Has it ever occurred to you to just, I don’t know, talk to him? Tell him how you feel?” Boyd suggests, reiterating his point.

“On the scale of scary things, it could be way worse. At least he knows you’re a werewolf, unlike the guy I like,” Erica half-grumbles.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “Do you really think that would work?”

Boyd shrugs back. “The worst thing he’ll say is that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Erica rolls her eyes as Derek groans again. “Look what you did, Boyd. Now he’s gonna mope for a week.”

“He better not mope for too long,” Boyd warns. “Stiles is leaving for college in May. He’s only got ten months to get his shit together.”

“Why am I friends with you guys again?” he asks.

Erica smiles sweetly at him. “Because we love you and want what’s best for you.”

Boyd adds, “We’re also not afraid to give you a swift kick in the ass when you need it.”

Erica rounds it out with, “And we’ve been friends for over seven years, so statistically, you’re stuck with us.”

“Fair.”

\-----

A week after Derek’s last attempt at getting Stiles’ attention, he looks up from his video game when the front door opens. He’d know the sound of that too-rapid heartbeat anywhere.

Sure enough, Stiles sails through the door to the living room moments later, seven-year-old Simon clinging to his leg and making sounds like a monkey.

“Are you sure that’s the right animal, bud? I thought you were a wolf.” Stiles drags his leg along as he makes his way toward the couch.

“I’m a monkey _today,”_ Simon informs him. He’s Peter’s son and human, but the cold blue eyes he’s inherited from his father make him look every inch a predator. “Yesterday, I was a giraffe.”

“And what sound do they make?”

“They hum, actually,” Derek answers without thinking about it, moving a platform so Link can climb onto it.

“Seriously?” Stiles asks.

When Derek glances over, Stiles' eyes are bright with interest. Derek nods, his throat suddenly tight. “Yeah, they, uh… they hum, but mostly just at night. Giraffes only hum in the dark.”

“Cool.” Stiles gives him an impressed look. “Band name dibs, by the way.”

Derek feels like his ears are going to melt off from how hot they are, but he pins a smirk on his face and lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Yeah, you can write me a check for half the proceeds.”

Stiles lifts an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Sixty-forty.”

“Fifty-five-forty-five,” he counters.

Stiles full on grins at him. “Deal.”

Before he can say anything else, Laura comes sailing into the room and perches on Stiles’ lap. “Hello darling.”

“Hello dear,” Stiles greets, his hand resting on her knee, the easy gesture making Derek frown. “What’s on the menu for the evening?”

“Well, I figure we can go to the movies or maybe check out the skate park.”

“What’s playing?” Stiles asks, leaning over to look at her phone.

It takes a lot of Derek’s willpower not to charge over and knock Laura off Stiles’ lap. He sighs shortly, mentally scolding himself, and turns back to his game.

“Hey Derek, wanna come with?” Stiles asks, jerking Derek’s attention away.

“Uh, where?” he asks.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stand sitting next to Stiles at a movie theater, the little whispered commentary in his ear, the brush of Stiles’ arm on his while they jostle over the armrest, the way he always licks the butter and salt off his fingers.

“Skate park. We’re gonna watch Malia kick all the boys’ asses.”

He pretends to think about it. “Yeah, okay.”

Laura gives Stiles weird look, but shrugs and calls, “Mom, Derek and I are going to the skate park with Stiles.”

“Be back by ten,” Talia calls back.

“Mo- _om_ ,” she and Derek plead in unison.

“Fine, eleven!” she concedes.

They high-five and head for the door.

Everything goes well for a while. Derek enjoys watching Malia skate and he likes watching Brett and Liam compete against each other.

Malia is good, really good, but when she’s ever asked if she’s gonna go pro, she laughs it off with some excuse. It’s not like she can say she’s a werecoyote and that’s why the humans she competes against have no chance of keeping up.

When Derek’s tired of wandering from group to group chatting, Malia’s girlfriend Kira pats a spot on the bench next to her.

Derek settles there, watching as Stiles and Laura amble over to talk to some of their friends.

“Still crushing on him, huh?” Kira asks.

Derek turns to look at her, mouth dropping open. “Uh…”

She smiles, a sweet thing, and pats his shoulder. “It’s fine. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“How did you know?”

She laughs. “Well, I could say it was my kitsune powers, but really, it’s just the way you watch him, mostly.”

“God,” he mutters, feeling like an obvious idiot.

“It’s okay, I don’t think he knows.”

He sighs. “That’s sort of the problem.”

“Ah,” she nods sagely. “He is pretty oblivious, for someone so smart.”

“Tell me about it.”

After that, the crowd moves closer and Derek sees that Stiles is talking to some guy. He’s laughing, reaching out to touch the guy’s shoulder, and Derek can smell the way the guy reacts.

He growls lowly.

Kira touches his hand and mumbles, “Your eyes.”

“Dammit.” He closes his eyes, partly to cover up that they’ve changed to born-wolf beta blue and partly so he doesn’t have to see the guy flirting with Stiles.

Laura saunters over and announces, “We’re gonna go grab some food. Wanna come?”

Derek shakes his head. “I’m gonna head home.”

Laura frowns. “Okay. Everyone is going to eat, though, so how are you gonna get home?”

“I can walk,” he states, getting to his feet.

“Nah, I can drive you,” Stiles offers.

Laura and the guy who was flirting with Stiles both look disappointed. “You sure?” Laura asks.

Stiles nods. “Yeah, I’m not feeling it. Besides, I have to clean the kitchen tonight.” He rolls his eyes. “My dad will make me do it for two weeks if I put it off again.”

Laura sighs. “Alright, but you owe me a movie and cuddle shesh tomorrow.”

Stiles kisses her cheek. “Sure thing, doll.” He jerks his head at Derek, pulling out his keys. “Let’s go, dude.”

Derek says goodbye to Kira and follows Stiles to his Jeep. “Thanks,” he mumbles when they’ve been driving for a while. He knows Stiles is probably still irritated about the basketball thing, but he hasn’t said anything about it.

It was not Derek’s best plan, he’ll admit that, but it could have been worse, he guesses.

“It’s no problem.” Stiles taps his fingers on his steering wheel along to the beat of whatever song is playing on the radio.

Derek studies him for a minute before he accuses, “You don’t have to clean the kitchen.”

Stiles smirks, raising an eyebrow. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

Derek smirks back. “Because I know you. Besides, you were on kitchen duty last week. You were bitching about it the whole time.”

Stiles laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, you got me. Guilty as charged. You should be a lawyer like your mom, I swear.”

Derek preens at the compliment, but he has to ask, “Why did you offer to drive me then?”

“Eh, I thought I wanted to hang out with everyone tonight but I wasn’t feeling it.” His tone is bland but Derek can tell he’s bluffing.

“Well, I appreciate it, regardless.”

“Of course, dude. You know I always got you.”

“Yeah.” Derek knows. Derek just wishes it was a little less friendly and a little more, well, more-than-friendly.

When Stiles pulls up to the house, he throws the Jeep in park and affects a stuffy accent. “You have arrived at your destination, Mr. Hale. Is there anything else I can assist you with this evening?”

Derek almost blurts out something crazy, but instead he just leans in and studies Stiles closely from a few inches away, a slow smile curling over his mouth. “Thanks for the ride,” he says again, pitching his voice lower this time, and gets out of the car.

He grins like crazy when he hears how fast Stiles’ heart is beating and thinks maybe he’ll figure this thing out after all. His thoughts are confirmed when his mom tells him that they’re adding three new members to the pack, that they’re coming for dinner tomorrow, and that she expects him to help her teach them their ways.

He agrees and heads up to his room. After toeing off his shoes, he sprawls on the bed, signs onto Skype, and sees that Erica is online. He invites her to chat and smiles when he sees her face covered in a green face-mask.

“Heya, stud, what’s happening?” she purrs.

“I think I might actually have a plan,” he informs her.

“Oohh,” she coos, leaning closer to the screen. “Do tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update?!?!?!
> 
> So I'm posting this as a Sorry I'm A Day Late Updating My Other Fic gift.
> 
> Next chapter of TTLH is forthcoming - promise! For now, enjoy!

The day after Stiles drives Derek home, Stiles gets a text from Laura letting him know that dinner that night is a Pack Dinner.

He sighs, wondering who did what this time and whether or not he’s going to have to clean up a mess. He gets another text telling him that they’re getting new pack members and Stiles raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

He’s already decided that he’s going to ignore Derek’s strange behavior from yesterday, writing it off again as werewolf puberty, since that seems to be the easiest explanation.

Also, he’s planning on ignoring how fast his heart had been beating when _whatever_ it was that happened, er, happened.

Deaton is already there when Stiles gets to the den after his shift at the public library. The Emissary raises his hand in greeting but continues to speak to Peter, so Stiles heads inside.

“You smell like books,” Cora informs him, bumping her head into his shoulder in greeting when he walks past her in the hallway.

“It’s how I get the fellas,” he drawls.

“Well, it’s not working very well, is it?” Astrid – Peter’s teenage daughter – asks, sending her and Cora into a gale of laughter as they flounce into the living room.

“You two are the worst sort of people,” he informs them, turning his nose up at them and wandering into the kitchen.

“Hi Stiles,” Talia greets. “What are they up to now?”

“They’re being thirteen,” he grouses.

“Man, thirteen-year-olds are the _worst_ ,” she agrees loudly, eyes twinkling as protests come from the living room.

He grins and asks, “Need any help?”

“Nah,” she waves her hand at him, “I’m almost done. Dinner’s gonna be buffet style tonight.”

“Cool. Where’s Laura?”

“Being lazy in bed.” She rolls her eyes, long-suffering in the way that parents of lots of children are.

“Word. I’m gonna go jump on her.”

“Have fun,” she calls.

He passes Derek’s room on the way up and waves with a smile when Derek looks over at him.

Derek smiles and gives him a slow once-over. He drops Stiles a wink before turning back to his computer screen.

Stiles swallows hard and resolves to ignore that too, bursting into Laura’s room and jumping on her with a war cry. The ensuing wrestling match slash pillow fight suitably distracts him and they end up breaking a lamp, but it’s worth it.

\-----

Everyone in the pack, except Stiles’ dad, is at the house by the time doorbell rings.

Stiles and Laura look up at each other from their card game and raise their eyebrows. The guests have arrived, clearly, because anyone else would have just walked in.

Talia gives them all firm looks that tell them to behave before she wipes her hands on a towel and leaves the kitchen. She comes back with Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, and Scott’s mom Melissa.

“So _that’s_ who’s joining the pack,” Laura mutters.

Stiles turns and looks at Allison, smirking at her.

She ignores him and walks up to the newcomers. “Hi Mrs. McCall, hi Isaac, hi Scott.”

Melissa gives Allison a hug and Isaac gives a small wave while Scott smiles like he’s just won the lottery.

Laura links her arm through Stiles’ and murmurs so softly that only he can hear her, “Well this is gonna be fun.”

Stiles doesn’t know if he’d call it that, but he nods and tries to mentally prepare himself for the likely headache ahead.

If Derek’s expression is anything to go by, he agrees with Stiles. He’s frowning, watching the two boys intently. When he notices Stiles looking at him, he raises his eyebrows and tips his chin, silently saying, _These guys, really?_

Stiles snorts and shrugs. _What can ya do?_

Laura looks over when they both start laughing softly and rolls her eyes. “It’s your turn,” she reminds Stiles.

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” he says, smiling when Derek sticks his tongue out behind his sister’s back.

\-----

Stiles likes his pack and he likes his role in it.

He’s Emissary-in-Training, which basically means he’s just waiting for Deaton to decide that he doesn’t want to be Emissary any more.

It makes the question of his future a little murky, but he really is an expert in avoidance. It’s maybe genetic.

Since he doesn’t really have anything else to do on Friday afternoon and he’s not responsible for training the new pack members until they reach Level 4 Werewolf, Stiles lounges on a lawn chair in the backyard at the Hale house.

He’s soaking up the sun when Laura comes outside and sits on the edge of his chair, even though there’s plenty of chairs she could sit in. She leans back against his legs, instructing Scott and Isaac to sit on the grass in front of her.

“Alright, I know you’ve gotten a lot of information thrown at you in the past couple of days, but this is pretty easy. If you forget anything, just ask, okay? None of us will bite your head off except for Stiles and he’s human so it’ll heal.”

Stiles snorts but Scott and Isaac just nod, both looking a little nervous, despite the fact that they’ve both gotten the Bite now, have the next week off from school, and could withstand a lot more than Stiles would throw at them even though it’s the new moon. He sighs and closes his eyes, content to listen.

“Anyways,” Laura clears her throat, “first, at the top, is the Alpha. That’s my mom, Talia, which you already know. She has three kids. Laura – that’s me, obviously – I’m seventeen and a wolf and in line to be the next Alpha. Then there’s Derek who is fifteen and a wolf and Cora who is thirteen and a wolf.

“Next is Peter, Talia’s Left-Hand or Enforcer. He’s married to Olivia, who is human, and they have three kids: Astrid is thirteen and a wolf, Clarke is ten and a wolf, Simon is seven and he’s human.

“Next is Mayra, Talia’s sister. She’s human and she’s married to Shelly, who’s a wolf and Talia’s second. They have twins who are both wolves, Matt and Penelope, but they’re in college and only really come home on the holidays.

“Then, you have the Stilinskis: Stiles, Allison, and John. They’re pack but not wolves.

“We have a couple of Pack Adjacent People: Deaton, the pack’s Emissary, and Morrell, the pack’s Seer.”

Stiles opens his eyes and looks at the two new wolves. “Any questions?” he drawls, raising his eyebrows.

Scott hesitantly raises his hand. “Yeah, uh, how are humans able to be in the pack?”

Laura hums and asks, “Can you feel the pack bonds yet?” She’s not being rude – since she’s a Born wolf, it’s different for her. Most Bitten wolves would have similar questions.

Scott squints, his nose scrunching. “Sort of? Like… a pull almost,” he puts his hand to his lower chest, “here?” He turns to his brother. “What about you?”

Isaac shrugs and says softly, “I feel it a little stronger, but it’s also a feeling in my head, like, I can understand things that some of the pack members are feeling before they say anything?”

Laura nods. “That’s good. Don’t fight that feeling. It’s good for a wolf to bond with their pack. Bonds like that are what helps make a solid, strong pack. An Alpha will naturally have stronger bonds to their pack than Betas but we all feel it.

“To answer your question, there are bonds with humans that aren’t in a pack. You’ll start to feel them the way you feel the wolves in the pack.” She grins over her shoulder at Stiles. “The stronger the bond, no matter if it’s a human or a wolf, the stronger you’ll feel it.”

He rolls his eyes, jostling her and protesting, “Quit. You’ll make them think that everyone is as close as we are and they’ll develop a complex.”

Laura laughs and rubs her hand on his calf. “We’re totally goals and you know it.”

He wrinkles his nose at her and teases, “Gross.” But he doesn’t deny it.

He closes his eyes and drifts off as she continues her lesson, soothed by the sound of her voice, their bond thrumming pleasantly in the back of his head.

\-----

At a quarter to six, Stiles calls out that he’s leaving for home and gets several calls in return, trotting out to his Jeep.

As he goes to sling his bag into the seat, most of his stuff falls out through the unzipped compartment.

He rolls his eyes toward the sky and sighs, leaning down to pick up his stuff from the driveway.

“Stiles,” Derek calls and he looks up, squinting into the sun as Derek trots toward him, writing pad in his hand.

“Hey Derek.” Stiles nods at him and finishes putting pens and a notebook back in his book bag.

Derek comes up next to the car and smiles sheepishly. “I was wondering, since I’m helping Laura train the new betas, if I could use you to rehearse what I’m going to say.” He pauses and frowns. “That didn’t come out right?”

Stiles smiles. “It’s fine.” He zips up his bag and puts it on the seat, shutting the door and leaning against it with crossed arms. “I’ve got some time before dinner. Shoot.”

Derek’s smile is wide and bright. “Thanks.” He sounds relieved and Stiles can’t help but smile back.

“Okay, so, uh, I’m gonna go through some basic things.” He puts the pad of paper on the hood of the Jeep and motions Stiles to stand further out from the car.

He does, hands dropping to hang at his sides.

Derek mimes things, muttering to himself, and Stiles guesses he just needed another person to stand there and not make fun of him for being nervous about his new role. God knows most of the Hales would mock him mercilessly.

Stiles just smiles as he watches Derek cross things off his list. Derek’s grown up a lot and the new responsibility is definitely a good opportunity for him. Not that he’s actually that much younger than Stiles is, but Laura – who’s two years older, like Stiles – tends to seem much more grown up since she’s preparing to take on the mantle of Alpha one day.

Derek glances at the paper again then moves forward, holding out his hand. “This is one way to greet a pack member,” Derek mumbles to himself, loud enough for Stiles to hear this time, and wiggles his fingers, waiting.

Stiles holds his hand out for Derek to take and lets Derek stroke the back of his hand in clear scent marking. It’s something Stiles has done since he was little: right hands hold, left hands scent, even if you’re a Lefty. He imitates Derek and marks the back of the tanned hand in his. Derek nods and lets his hand go, glancing at the pad again.

“This is another way to greet a pack member and is reserved for closer ties.” Derek steps up in front of him and places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, taking a deep breath.

Stiles tries to keep his breathing even as Derek moves closer, nosing along his cheek, displaying the more intimate scent marking reserved for close loved ones.

It’s something he used to do to everyone in the pack all the time when he was little before he grew out of it and realized the level of affection it holds.

As a teenager, he still gets the treatment from Laura all the time, because that’s how she is, and even Cora every now and then because she secretly adores him, even with all her preteen angst.

However, the practice has never set his heart pounding like this before.

Stiles expects Derek to pull back after a few seconds, waits for it so that he can get himself under control because Derek smells really good today and it’s doing something weird to his head.

But Derek doesn’t pull back, just dips his head lower and starts nuzzling further along, nudging toward Stiles’ ear.

“That’s, uh, not how I remem-” Stiles has to grab on to Derek’s shoulders to keep his knees from buckling when Derek sets his searing mouth on the hinge of his jaw, just under his ear.

Derek pulls back, dragging his lips over the curve of Stiles’ jaw before taking a step back. He smiles innocently before looking down at his checklist. “That’s all I needed help with. Thanks Stiles. Have a good night.” He grabs the notepad and trots happily back toward the house.

Stiles watches him go, backing up until he hits the side of his Jeep. He stands there, eyes wide and heart racing as he tries to figure out what the fuck just _happened_.

Again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapteeeeerrr!!
> 
> Bc I love all of you so much, in case you wondered. ;)

Stiles groans, dragging his bag into the Hale kitchen and slumping pathetically against the fridge when he gets there.

“God you’re dramatic,” Derek remarks.

Stiles opens his eyes and sees Derek leaning against the island counter, studying him. “I have good reason,” he grumbles and pats at the freezer door. “And I deserve ice cream for dealing with this shitty day.”

“What’s the reason?”

Stiles whines, “I can’t _possibly_ talk about it without ice cream.”

“You’re pathetic,” Derek laughs and moves him toward a chair, having to manhandle him a little when Stiles decides to remain floppy-limbed. When he’s finally got Stiles settled, he goes to the freezer and pulls out ice cream. “Spill,” he orders, going to a cabinet for bowls.

“Human school is stupid and I should be allowed to go to Werewolf school with the rest of the pack,” Stiles states, not for the first time.

He’s been complaining about the same thing for years. At least now he’s old enough not to cry about it.

“You sound like a broken record,” Derek almost sing-songs, digging for silverware.

“I’m just saying, dude.”

Derek slides a bowl of ice cream in front of him and sits in the chair next to his with his own bowl. “So, anything specific happen or are you just bitching in general?”

Stiles looks down at his ice cream and it’s exactly what he wanted. He sighs, rubbing his eyes as a little voice whispers at him. He ignores it and mutters, “I mean, it’s mostly regular stuff. I think I’m just freaking out because it’s my senior year.”

Derek hums around his spoon, nodding.

“And…” he shakes his head, “I don’t know. I’m leaving for school after I graduate. I want to have some life experience before I’m tied to Beacon Hills forever.”

“It’s not like you can’t ever leave,” Derek reminds him softly.

“I know, I know, I just…” He shrugs expansively and blows out a breath.

“Well, you’ve got lots of good reasons to come back and you can always retire like Deaton’s planning to, pass the torch.”

“Yeah,” Stiles concedes, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m _always_ right,” Derek informs him haughtily. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”

“Well, Mr. Fancy Pants, you’ve got some ice cream on your face.” Stiles points to the corner of his mouth.

Derek tips his chin up and waits for Stiles to get it for him.

Stiles can’t help but laugh, reaching out and swiping his thumb over the corner of Derek’s mouth.

Before he can pull back, Derek’s hand darts out and wraps around his wrist. Derek licks the ice cream from Stiles’ thumb, a slow hot swipe of his tongue, his blue-green-grey gaze heavy as his fingers trail down Stiles’ arm and drop away at the elbow.

Stiles swallows thickly, entire body at attention. Without thinking, he runs his thumb over Derek’s bottom lip slowly.

Derek shudders, eyes closing as he breathes out in a rush that tickles Stiles’ skin.

_“Everybody wants to be a cat, because a cat’s the only cat, who knows where it’s at…”_

He jumps like he’s been electrocuted and snatches his hand away from touching Derek’s mouth – _TOUCHING Derek’s MOUTH!_

“Losing my mind,” Stiles mutters, snatching his phone from his pocket. He glances over at Derek, who’s now frowning down at the last of his ice cream, and answers the call in a surprisingly steady voice. “Hey, Ally Cat. What’s up?”

_“Dad’s gotta go in early tonight.”_

He sighs and says, even though she doesn’t have to ask, “I’ll come get you from practice.”

_“Kay. Bye.”_

He rolls his eyes when she hangs up on him. Turning back to Derek, he’s more than a little surprised when Derek’s standing on the other side of the island, washing both their bowls.

“I have to…” Stiles holds up his phone, even though Derek surely heard the conversation.

Derek nods and says, “Don’t stress too much about the school thing. It’ll work out and you’ll be done soon. Then you can go travel and do awesome things before you come back and make our pack even better than it already is.”

Stiles nods, reassured and so goddamned confused. He mutters, “Thanks, Derek,” and flees, though he’d never admit it.

\-----

Stiles feels like Derek really is playing a game with him because one minute, he’s normal Derek and making fun of Stiles and talking and the next he’s all… sultry and flirty and… and then he’s back to normal?

Like, what the fuck?

Stiles could write it all off, push the whole thing out of his mind like he decided to before, but it’s not as if he can just avoid Derek. He’s pack, after all.

Plus, one of the many nosy pack members would likely notice and comment on his weirdness and then they’d all be paying attention and then they’d know, somehow, what he’s been thinking about.

 _Not_ that he’s been thinking about Derek.

Not any more than usual, that is.

Or…

Whatever.

And the worst part is that he feels like he can’t talk to Laura about it. It’s happened once or twice before, naturally, but he never likes the feeling.

Lacking better options for a discussion about this very delicate topic, he makes a great sacrifice and turns to his sister.

A couple days later, they’re lounging in the living room after dinner, too full to get up yet, and Stiles stops gnawing on his thumbnail long enough to say, “As painful as this is to say: I need your advice.”

Allison immediately perks up, turning toward him and leaning her chin on her hands. “Yeeesssss?”

He rolls his eyes, already regretting his decision. “Okay, don’t judge me, but I think that Derek is trying to seduce me.”

She blinks at him. “What gives you that idea?”

“Uh, well, for starters, he’s been flirting with me, like… a _lot_.” He lets her process that and adds, “Also! He’s always, like, _there_ , you know?”

She snorts, clearly laughing at him.

“What? What’s so funny?”

She shakes her head. “Stiles… I’m trying really hard to take you seriously right now…”

“Why?”

“Because, well, he’s pack, right? I mean, he’s kinda gonna be around a lot.”

“Well, I mean, yeah,” he concedes.

“Then it’s normal, right?”

“I would say yes, but he’s sort of been… lurking? Like, he’s around me more than he normally is.”

Ever since the ice cream incident, Derek’s been within a few feet of Stiles every time he’s been at the Hale house. It’s not that it’s abnormal, per se, but now Stiles has an awareness of Derek’s presence in a way he hasn’t really had before.

“He’s always around you,” she reminds him but he gives her a look. “Well, maybe he does like you.” She laughs. “I mean, remember how he used to say he was gonna marry you all the time when we were little?”

He nods, remembering bouquets of dandelion fluffs and Derek’s insistence that they were gonna live in the treehouse after they got married. The memories are hazy with Summer sun and make him smile.

She studies him for a moment, asking quietly, “Do you… like him?”

“I mean, he’s _Derek_ , you know. That would… that would be weird,” he clears his throat, “right?”

She shrugs, face thoughtful. “Then I guess my advice is… ignore it and hope he gets over his crush?”

He claps, pointing at her. “I vote for that one.”

“Avoiding doesn’t solve anything but it works more often than not and it’s your life, so. Anything else?”

“Nah, that’s all.” However, his thumbnail is back in his mouth and his leg starts jiggling before he finishes talking.

She notices, because she’s Allison, but she just flops back to sprawl on the couch again. “Okay. Good talk.”

“Yeah, good. Let’s watch tv.”

They turn on a documentary and Stiles stares at the images of sea creatures, David Attenborough’s voice low and soothing, but his mind is on Derek.

It’s starting to be common practice for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm transitioning to a new job and things are a bit hectic right now, which is why I'm late updating this and TTLH.
> 
> Apologies.
> 
> Also, side note, have any of you seen To All The Boys I've Loved Before? Uhm, I read the book years ago and now there's a fucking precious ass movie?! If you haven't seen it, please do yourself a favor and watch it. It'll melt your heart, dude. Peter K 4 Lyfe.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the chapter! :D

Stiles wakes up on his eighteenth birthday to his phone doing a jittery dance on his nightstand.

“Noooo,” he grumbles into the phone.

Laura sings, “ _Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Happy Biiiiiiirthday!_ ”

“God, I hate you.”

“ _Lies!_ ”

Stiles smiles – he _is_ lying – and rubs his face. “Why do you always do this?”

“ _Because the day you were born is the day my soul was complete!_ ”

“Gross.”

“ _Bitch, you love me_.”

He hangs up on her and goes back to sleep for another hour.

When he gets to school, he’s attacked immediately, a crown is shoved onto his head and kisses are planted on both cheeks.

Laura pulls back and he sees that she’s wearing bright red lipstick. “ _Now_ you look like a Birthday Boy!”

“Jesus,” he gripes, not bothering to fight her. He sighs and holds his hands out. “Can I go to class now?”

She pulls back and scowls at him. “Why do you hate being loved?”

“Because I’m the worst sort of person, obviously.” He hugs her tightly. “Now go to school before you’re super late instead of a little late.”

She grins at him and promises, “I’ll see you after school. We’re meeting at the cabin, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves her away. “Have a good day.”

“You too! Love you!”

“Love you too,” he calls, ignoring the curious looks people send him and heading inside.

After school, he immediately heads to the cabin on the Hale property that’s halfway between the main house and Peter’s cabin. It’s where most of their birthday celebrations have taken place since they were old enough to be left without adults.

Though, the adults are there for the first part. Stiles’ dad and Talia and Peter and the other adults of the pack that aren’t working. Malia and Kira are there, along with Theo and Liam and Hayden and some of the other shifters that he knows.

Even the punk pups are there, Isaac sticking close to Scott’s side as people greet them. Allison is on Scott’s other side, their fingers laced together as they dimple at each other.

Stiles would worry about them more if he wasn’t having such a good time.

First, there’s cake and everyone shouting ‘Happy Birthday’ at him and he blows out the candles, ignoring the teasing at what he wished for – he never tells. After that, platters of food are put out and several small groups of people split off to play games and sing karaoke.

Eventually, the adults drift off.

Stiles’ dad pulls him aside and warns, like he has for the past three birthdays, “I better not get a noise complaint.”

He rolls his eyes and hugs his dad. “Good night, old man.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, dad.”

“Look out for your sister.”

Stiles aims a suspicious look at Allison and Scott who are currently teamed up for Cards Against Humanity. “Oh, I’m already on it.”

His dad laughs and ruffles his hair.

Stiles takes a break and goes inside to kick off his shoes and grab a glass of water. He’s convincing himself to get up off the couch when someone clears their throat.

He looks up and says, “What’s up, Der?”

“Happy Birthday,” Derek says softly, handing him a thin present wrapped in silver paper.

He grins and tears into it, maybe expecting a CD or a book. What he gets is both, sort of.

“It’s your old home movies,” Derek explains. He scratches at his jaw, clearly a little nervous. “I got the tapes from Allison and put them on DVDs. I know it’s kind of…” Derek shrugs, shuffling his feet.

Stiles looks up at him and smiles. “This is really great. Thank you, Derek.”

It’s possibly one of the best presents he’s ever gotten.

And it makes something in his chest tighten right before Laura appears and throws herself at him.

“Come on, Birthday Boy, not that the adults are gone, it’s time for champagne!”

He laughs and gets up, helping her to her feet. “Come on, Derek.” He slings his arm over Derek’s shoulders and announces, “It’s champagne time!”

Derek’s slight frown eases into another smile and he nods, dropping his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Stiles blames the warm feeling at the action on the three glasses of champagne that he guzzles right after that, even if the logic doesn’t line up.

Eventually, the night devolves into drinking games.

Stiles has his own bottle. Allison’s already politely declined anything alcoholic, stating that she has a project planning meeting in the morning and doesn’t want to be hungover.

Stiles shrugs – more for him – and snags a playing card to stick to his forehead.

After a few rounds of Golf, he switches to Kings Cup and he dominates, though he does end up having to take a shot when he pulls the King. It’s all good though – he’s drunk enough now that the alcohol goes down smoothly.

After that, it’s more drinking, then some clumsy dancing, then losing epically to Kira at Guitar Hero, and suddenly he finds himself in the kitchen busily slurping water from the tap.

He looks up as Derek walks in and crows, “Heyyyy Der!”

Derek smiles and shakes his head. “You’re drunk.”

“So’re you,” Stiles accuses.

Derek shrugs. “Maybe a little.”

“Dude,” Stiles starts, shutting off the water and patting at his jeans. “Thank you for my present.”

Derek looks a little embarrassed and Stiles coos at him.

“Seriously, don’t be embarrassed, it was really sweet.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Stiles reels Derek in for a hug, laughing when Derek growls and pokes his side.

When he pulls back, he suddenly remembers wiping ice cream off Derek’s mouth. Like… it’s the first thing to spring into his head and he… can’t focus on anything else. Except for, maybe, how close they’re standing and how green Derek’s eyes look.

Derek’s hands, somehow still on his waist, tighten just a little. “Stiles, I…”

“Derek!” Theo shouts from the living room. “Are you in this round or what?!”

They don’t jump apart, but Derek’s hands fall away from Stiles’ sides and Stiles steps back, clearing his throat.

“Yeah!” he calls, eyes locked on Stiles’ face.

Stiles nods rapidly, motioning for him to go on. “Kick his ass for me.”

Derek nods, casting one last glance back before leaves.

And Stiles… Stiles needs to sober the fuck up.

\-----

As the sun comes up the next day, Stiles is lying in bed next to Laura, totally sober, staring at the ceiling and contemplating his life choices, wondering how he’s found himself in the position he’s in.

He’s a reasonably good person, he thinks, not someone who’s immediately liked, but nice enough. He’s a good student, a good son. He helps elderly people carry their groceries and mows people’s lawns. He doesn’t really see why he’s being punished. He deserves nice things. Really, he does.

He’s maybe being a _little_ dramatic.

But, Laura is his best friend. He glances over at her sleeping face and grimaces. Crushing on her little brother is so not cool. It’s so cliché that it almost _hurts_. Life isn’t a 90s movie, this isn’t how it works.

Plus, seriously, it’s _Derek_.

Jocky, bratty, annoying little rabbit-toothed _Der_ _Bear_ who sucked his thumb until he was five and eats pineapple on his pizza – like what the hell who does that – and always wears those goddamn basketball shorts and talks in his sleep and _steals Stiles’ clothes_.

Derek who makes him ice cream when he’s upset and knows Stiles’ favorite movies and got him an amazing present and looks _really_ good in Stiles’ clothes…

Stiles puts a pillow over his face and groans.

Goddammit, he’s got a – a _thing_ for Derek Hale. _Jesus Rollerblading Christ_.

Stiles rolls over and groans into the pillow facedown this time.

Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll suffocate.

Turns out, no such luck: Laura wakes up at his pathetic moaning and flops on top of him, demanding pancakes.

So instead of marinating in his own angst, he ends up making enough pancakes to feed a small army, since all the party guests trickle into the kitchen at the smell of breakfast.

Derek sends him a small smile when he takes his plate and Stiles almost burns himself when his hand slips off the counter and goes dangerously near the burner.

Turning back to the stove, he pretends like nothing happened and makes another batch of pancakes.

Clearly, he should’ve suffocated himself when he had the chance.

-0-0-0-

Derek has always sort of liked that he and Stiles have their birthdays a couple of weeks apart. When Derek was still too little to know better, he used to get a cupcake with a candle at Stiles’ birthday party so that he could make a wish too.

This year, they’re both lucky that their birthdays fall on Fridays instead of a weekday. Laura prepares the cabin for the celebration – there will be decidedly less alcohol, she’s decreed – but she needs the bubble machine for some ungodly reason.

So Derek meets Stiles at his house after school lets out, since the bubble machine is still at the Stilinski residence after the last barbeque. Fate seems to be on his side – for once – and they’re alone.

After he has the bubble machine in his bag, he plants himself on Stiles’ bed while Stiles tears through his closet.

“Where the fuck is that shirt?” Stiles grumbles under his breath, sliding hangers aside and pawing at the fabric.

“Which one?”

“The red one that Laura got me for my birthday.”

Derek looks around the room and spots the shirt slung over the back of Stiles’ desk chair. “There.”

Stiles blows out a breath, rolls his eyes, and pulls his t-shirt off in one smooth movement. He seems completely oblivious to the effect that the action has on Derek as he grabs the shirt and pulls it on.

“Does it smell okay?”

Derek crooks his fingers for Stiles to come closer, clearly too comfy to get up, and Stiles rolls his eyes but comes over, plopping next to Derek on the bed.

“Well?”

Derek leans over, taking a deep breath. He leans back and makes a face.

“What? Really? That bad?” Stiles lifts the collar and gives it a sniff.

“I mean, it smells like you, so that should tell you all you need to know.”

Stiles drops the collar back into place and scowls at him, shoving at Derek’s face. “Shut up! You suck!”

Derek laughs and leans out of the way of Stiles’ flailing.

After a moment, Stiles gives up trying to retaliate, but he doesn’t move. Instead he turns and asks, “So what do you want for your birthday? I feel like I need to actually get something for you this year, since you clearly put serious effort into my present.”

Derek grins and pretends to mull that over. He waits a moment before he answers: “A kiss.”

Stiles chuckles but his expression drops when he looks at Derek. “Wait, are you serious?”

Derek shrugs in faux nonchalance, even though his heart is pounding. “You asked.”

“I didn’t, uh…”

Derek just shrugs again when Stiles doesn’t continue. If Stiles doesn’t seem into it, he’ll laugh it off, pretend he’s kidding.

“I…” Stiles studies him for a moment, biting his lip, “okay.”

Derek just blinks at him, not really believing that had worked.

After a few seconds of this, Stiles blows out a breath and mutters, a flush crawling up his neck, “Well? Do you want it or not?”

He fights not to grin like an idiot. Instead, he nods and leans closer, waiting.

Stiles’ heart is pounding too, now, and his breathing is shallow as he leans closer. He closes his eyes and tilts his head, just a bit to the side, then presses his lips to Derek’s.

He feels like his chest is going to explode, even though it’s the simplest of things: their mouths pressed together, lips closed and dry.

When Stiles pulls back, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are dark. “Happy Birthday,” he croaks.

He nods, tongue moving along his bottom lip.

Stiles’ eyes follow the movement and he leans forward just a little.

“Do…” Derek whispers, “do you want to do it again?”

Stiles’ gaze moves from his mouth to his eyes and he swallows loudly.

The front door slams and Derek jumps.

“What?” Stiles asks, leaning away with a confused frown.

“Someone’s home.”

Stiles doesn’t have a chance to ask who when Mr. Stilinski calls, “Stiles! I need help with the groceries!”

He calls, “I’ll be right down!”

Derek stands up, wiping his palms on his jeans. “I’m gonna…” He jerks his thumb toward the window.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll, uh,” Stiles clears his throat, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah.”

Derek can't wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These poor boys, always interrupted!
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> kisskiss  
> ♡ Scotch


End file.
